the new home of @bookmark_terry
Only to have a grief equal to all these tears! There’s not a sob in my chest. Dry-hearted as Peer Gynt I pare away, no hero, merely a cook. Crying was labor, once when I’d good cause. Walking, I felt my eyes like wounds raw in my head, so postal-clerks, I thought, must stare. A dog’s look, a cat’s, burnt to my…
I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself, and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose…